


I Want You(r Intel)

by TheWeirdDane



Series: Monster fucking [36]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: (It's not), Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Trauma, in which Lorik has a human fetish, shepard thinks her disguise and code name is fucking amazing, this went from 'smut' to 'smut with feelings' so fast I got whiplash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29085897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: Shepard's superiors are interested in knowing how a hotel manager on Noveria got so popular, and they send their best agent to get the intel - commander Jane Shepard. She ends up skilfully getting the intel, but also much more than she originally bargained for.
Relationships: Lorik Qui'in/Female Shepard
Series: Monster fucking [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/450385
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22





	I Want You(r Intel)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I found Lorik Qui'in sitting alone in some bar on Noveria and immediately thought "SUGAR DADDY". This story is not exploring that particular aspect, but it IS what inspired me to write this story. Together with another writer friend, of course, bless her heart <3

Shepard was in no, shape or form used to dolling herself up. Her favourite outfit was her armor, and she was most comfortable with a couple guns strapped to her back. Thus, she was more than skeptical when her next mission was to gather intel at a hotel on Noveria. Allegedly, this hotel had undergone some drastic changes, and the Alliance wanted to know how the manager - a turian called Lorik Qui’in - had gotten the credits for it, when just a few months earlier, it had been ransacked by guards. 

She had been poured into a red dress so tight it was like it had been sculpted to her personally while pushing her breasts up and making them seem bigger than they actually were. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but when she spoke up about this, her crew mates grinned and simply began talking about how to do her makeup. 

So, now she stood by the bar in some strange hotel on Noveria, alone and barely able to breathe for the dress. She was nursing a beer between her hands while scouting the hotel bar. Ideally, she would like to talk with this Lorik personally, but any kind of reliable intel would be valuable. 

There was a light touch to her elbow, and Shepard turned her head, golden earrings dangling. They were heavy, and it was an unusual feeling. 

A turian entered her vision. He seemed a decent one, with hide a shade of light brown and white clan markings that seemed to direct all attention to his eyes. His face itself was almost entirely ivory, two white stripes going down over his brown mandibles. Wearing a black and blue tunic instead of the armor turians tended to wear, he appeared less irritable, less serious, and more inviting. 

It was an exact match - this was Lorik Qui'in. 

“Excuse me,” he said in a kind voice, not as deep or gruff as most turians, “but I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” 

Shepard smiled and bowed her head in a slow nod before looking up at him. 

“Alison Gunn,” she lied smoothly and stretched out her hand in greeting. He took and shook it, and his mandibles flared in a smile. 

“Lorik Qui'in.”

“A pleasure, mister Qui'in.” 

“Please,” he rumbled out a chuckle, “we can go by a first name basis, don’t you think?”

Shepard’s smile was still in place, and it widened slightly. 

“With all due respect, sir, we don’t know each other.” 

“We can fix that.”

A smooth talker. Excellent. 

“We can indeed,” she agreed and leaned an elbow against the bar, making the dress stretch slightly and show off her figure. He clearly noticed, even if he pretended not to. His eyes flicked quickly between her body and her face. 

Then he gestured towards the back of the bar, and she nodded, grabbed her clutch - or was it a purse? Or a bag? Whatever! - and followed him. They walked to a secluded table, and Lorik pulled out a chair for Shepard, who smiled widely and sat down, upon which he pushed the chair to the table. 

“Such a gentleman,” she chuckled and eyed him as he took his own seat. He was slender and agile, not a walking bundle of muscles. 

“I try to please my guests where I can.”

“Very kind of you.”

They sat in silence for a couple of seconds, Shepard taking a swig of her beer and trying to look a bit more lady-like than she normally did when drinking beer, before Lorik opened his mouth again. 

“Now, miss Gunn, what brings you to Noveria, and my little hotel specifically?” 

“It’s not as little as you might think,  _ Lorik,” _ Shepard smiled and couldn’t resist the urge to wink at him. His mandibles fluttered, and while he didn’t exactly look away, his gaze did flicker between her and his drink for half a moment. When he looked back at her, there was a warmth in his face, and he leaned slightly back in his chair. 

“Is that so, Alison?”

“I mean, news of your hotel reached all the way to the Citadel.” 

He arched a brow plate.

“The Citadel,  _ really? _ ” He sounded genuinely surprised, and honoured. 

Shepard nodded and sipped her beer, not taking her eyes off of Lorik. 

“You’re from the Citadel, then, I take it?” 

“Something like that,” she teased and made him sit forward in his chair, a smile making his mandibles flutter. 

“Am I supposed to trust you over ‘something like that’?”

Shepard chuckled. 

“It’s either that or losing a guest. The choice is yours,” she said but there was a warmth in her voice that made Lorik laugh. 

“Very well then, Alison,” he rumbled and put his drink on the table, leaning on arm on the surface and watching her intensely. She suddenly felt small under his intense gaze, and she tried not to squirm. “I choose to trust you. Don’t make me regret it.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Lorik. I’m a good girl.” The words were like acid on her tongue, but she had been through worse in the pursuit of intel. 

“In that dress?” he said, and it was clear he hadn’t meant to say it. At least not out loud, and least of all to her. “Damn it,” he whispered, to himself, and looked away, mandibles pinching tight to his face. 

Shepard couldn’t hold back a loud, warm laugh and raised an eyebrow before she copied his position.

“In that dress? What’s that supposed to mean?” she inquired, purposefully lowering her voice to an almost sultry drawl. He glanced at her for a second before looking away again. 

“I rarely see human women in attire so... form fitting.” It seemed painful for him to say, and Shepard chose not to laugh at him this time, or in other ways humiliate him. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, genuinely curious, and her voice was back to its normal steady and kind self. 

He took her in for a moment, then nodded slowly. 

“Would be a fool to lie about that. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Just a bit,” Shepard smiled and tugged some hair behind her ears, mostly to gauge his reaction. His eyes followed her fingers and settled on her eyes for a second, then, for half a heartbeat, on her lips, and he cleared his throat, looked away again.

Oh, this was going to be easy. Lorik was clearly into her, or at least her  _ human forms, _ which she could use to her advantage. 

“Anyway, Lorik,” she said and laughed softly before taking a swig of her almost-empty beer, “it must have been a lot of work to restore this hotel to its former glory. I heard you had all sorts of guards and vandals ransacking the place.” 

“You heard right,” he sighed and sipped his own drink. “It was... a mess, I’ll admit, but how I got it polished... I’ll keep that secret to myself. Sorry, Alison,” he rumbled with a wink. 

“No worries, I understand. Work policy, am I right?”

“Absolutely. What line of work are you in?” 

“I’m a mechanic.”

“Pardon my ignorance, but what could a mechanic have to keep on the downlow?” 

“You’d be surprised.” 

“Surprise me, then,” he challenged with his mandibles fluttering. 

“I can’t. Work policy,” she said with a smug smile, and Lorik laughed loudly. 

“I like you, Alison. Like you a lot.”

“Is that the alcohol talking? Or the dress speaking to you?” 

“Both, or neither. Whichever you prefer.”

“I would prefer getting out of this outfit. Would you mind lending me a hand? I’m sure you have a guest room somewhere around here,” Shepard purred and batted her eyelids at him. 

“I do,” he said nonchalantly, nearly a drawl, “for paying guests. Have you, or your company, paid for your stay, miss Gunn?”

... Damn it. 

She was about to fabricate some kind of lie or an excuse as to why she hadn’t paid for a room, when Lorik leaned forward and put a hesitant hand on her knee. A bold move, that he seemed to realize when he had already done it. But, much to his credit, he didn’t withdraw it when their eyes met. 

“... What are you doing, Lorik?”

“I thought it would be quite obvious.” 

“Okay, let me rephrase,” she laughed and turned slightly to face him properly, straightening her back, “what are you hoping to accomplish?”

He didn’t answer that, simply grinned, and his mandibles fluttered. 

Then, without a warning, he stood from his chair and straightened his tunic. Shepard was afraid she had blown the mission, when he stretched out a hand to her.

“Come, walk with me, Alison,” he rumbled, and she was compelled to put her hand in his. Together, they walked through the hotel, up stairs and down hallways, until Shepard, who was usually pretty decent at directions, had lost her mental map. 

Wary of this fact, she pretended to gawk at the statues and the paintings on the walls, when in reality, she was looking to reestablish a sense of directions. 

“I hate to repeat myself,” she said smoothly, and Lorik turned his head slightly but otherwise kept walking, “but it seems I’ll have to. What are you hoping to accomplish by dragging me halfway across the planet?”

“It’s hardly  _ that _ big,” he chuckled, and for a fleeting moment, warmth spread in Shepard’s stomach, and she hoped it didn’t register on her face. Not that he looked at her face, but still. “But if you must know, Alison, I was hoping to make you a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“The secretive kind, of course,” he said and turned his head to wink at her. “Why else would I be taking you to my own, personal room?”

Shepard wasn’t sure what or how, but  _ something _ had changed. Up here, Lorik wasn’t the almost shy or coy turian he had been in the bar. Instead, his steps brought him forward with an air of importance and confidence. There was no negotiating with this turian. 

“Your office?” she asked hesitantly and used her free hand to casually touch her thigh where she had hidden her combat knife. 

“No. My room,” he repeated in a low, deep rumble, and heat  _ definitely _ swept across her face. 

So, he was  _ that _ kind of turian. She should have figured. Politicians were all the same - smooth talkers with a filthy mind and even more salacious ideas. 

“Mr. Qui’in,” she said firmly, but for some reason kept walking, and they took a left turn, then up a flight of stairs, “don’t you think a deal was better made in an  _ official _ place?” 

He didn’t answer but instead brought up his omni-tool when they reached a set of double doors by the far end of the hallway. Of course. Always as far away from everything as possible. 

They swung open to reveal a, quite frankly, ridiculously lavish room. 

It was warmer than anywhere else on this snowball of a planet - “Turians hate the cold, Shepard, did I ever mention that?” her turian squadmate’s words rang in the back of her head - and couches, as well as big, old school leather chairs, were casually strewn around the room. 

Lorik entered, and so did Shepard, and the doors clicked shut behind her. Then there was the hiss of them locking, and she pretended that her eyes widened because of the overwhelming furnishing, not the fact that she was now locked in here with him. 

_ He _ was also locked in here with  _ her, _ though _. _

As he easily navigated them through the couches and puffs and chairs and desks, she noticed how  _ elegant _ he was as he slid between the furniture. Of course, she had eyes - she knew they weren’t the hardcore killing machines  _ krogan _ were often made out to be, but a still rising number of turians decided to go the mercenary route. These turians were big and bulky, and couldn’t move ten feet without tripping off every alarm in a five mile radius. 

Lorik Qui’in, on the other hand, was agile and elegant. He wasn’t a merciless killer. 

He was something far more dangerous. 

The hair on the back of Shepard’s neck stood on end and when he opened yet another set of double doors - how  _ extra _ could he be? - he turned around to face her, slowly walking backwards into what was clearly his bedroom. 

He let go of her hand and hummed as he walked to the massive panorama windows, drawing the curtains. 

Shepard gawked at everything in the room. From the giant bed who could hold  _ at least _ five humans, to the lavish couch with its army of pillows pushed up against one of the windows, and to the dresser in the corner. She felt fairly certain she could store all of her weapons and armor in there, and still have enough room to fit an elcor. 

The lush carpet swallowed the sound of her heels as she slowly walked up beside him, in awe of how  _ soft _ everything in here was. She was used to her hard bunk and the sharp lines of the Normandy. 

Lorik spread his hands to the side as he watched her, and his mandibles flared. ‘ _ What do you think?’ _ , he asked without words. 

“Impressive,” Shepard said, “but not as impressive as the rooms of other bigshots I’ve had the joy of visiting.”

“Is visiting important figures part of being a mechanic,  _ Alison _ ?” he rumbled, and the way he curled her name made ice churn in her stomach.

He knew. 

In the split second it took for her to reach for her knife, he had pulled out a gun and aimed it at her hand. Her hand hovered above the strap on her thigh as she observed Lorik. Calm, collected, not in a rush. 

“I know you’re hiding a knife on your thigh,” he drawled and tipped the gun a few times, indicating that she’d better lower her hand. She didn’t. “I also know your name is not Alison Gunn.”

“Who else would I be?” she asked coolly, and he chuckled. 

“How about... commander Jane Shepard of the Normandy? First human Spectre? Does that seem about right to you?” he asked and slowly grabbed the butt of the gun with his other hand, steadying his aim. 

Shepard bit her lower lip. How long had he known? Had he played her like a fiddle all along? 

“Your silence tells me everything I want and need to know,” he said, and a grin made his mandibles flutter. “You should be more careful, Shepard. Following a strange turian at a strange hotel on a strange planet, accepting a drink from said strange turian...” He dragged out the words, and the more he talked, the more heat spread across Shepard’s face, until he seemed to notice the blush, and for half a second, something like  _ uncertainty _ flickered across his face. 

“What do you want?” she snapped, and her hands curled slightly. 

“As I said, I want to make a deal with you.” 

“What kind of deal?” she demanded to know once more, and Lorik sighed. 

“I already told you. Please, try to keep up. It won’t require too much effort, I dare say, at least not on  _ your _ behalf.” He added the second half with a grin she either couldn’t, or didn’t want to, determine the nature of. “For now, though, I would feel safer if you weren’t reaching for your knife. Hands behind your back, Shepard.” 

“In your dreams,” she snorted. 

“My dreams have nothing to do with this,” he said and took a step forward, making her automatically take one back. 

“Do you want to discuss the deal like savages, or can we behave like civilized individuals? Although your species may still need time to learn the whole civilization part.” As he talked, his gaze swept over her, from her face and down to her feet in those ridiculous shoes. If it hadn’t been for the heels, she could have made a run for it, hide somewhere and wait for him. 

Baring her teeth, Shepard slowly straightened and put her hands by her sides, no longer reaching for her knife. 

“Excellent. Now,” he said and sat on the bed, patting the space next to him with one hand, “come here.” 

“No way,” she spat, but the way he tilted his head and threw it slightly in his direction was so far from his character that it took her aback. It was a hauntingly human gesture. 

Yet, she still crossed her arms over her chest, and it didn’t pass her by how his gaze was momentarily drawn to her chest, then at her face again. 

Ugh, politician. More so,  _ turian _ politicians. Only one step above the krogan in thinking they were the universe’s gift to humans. 

“Get your head out of the gutter and tell me what the deal is,” she demanded, and for a second, something warm and dangerous flared in his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands,” he hummed. “Your best bet would be to indulge me, Shepard.”

“Indulge you?” Slight confusion weaved into her voice, and she resented it. 

He didn’t reply to that, but instead flashed his teeth in a grin. 

“I have... how’s that human saying? I have a scratch that needs itching, and you need information.” 

Shepard was quiet. No way she was about to indulge a strange turian in his human fetish. Maybe,  _ maybe _ , if it had been Vakarian, it would have been different, but he was far too awkward for that idea to become anything more than just that - an idea, a thought. 

“Who do  _ you _ want intel on? The Alliance?” she said when he didn’t continue. 

“No. I want you to itch a scratch for me.”

“ _ Scratch _ an  _ itch _ .” There was a morbid sense of amusement in watching his ego falter for a second. 

“What?” he asked, and there was growing annoyance in his voice. 

“You want me to scratch an itch, by which I assume you mean you want your cock sucked.” 

He flashed another grin, teeth and tongue visible through his mouth plates.

“At the very least.” 

“What do I get in return?” she asked hesitantly, full well knowing that she should not be even  _ entertaining _ the idea of indulging him. 

“Intel, naturally.”

But she really needed that intel. Besides, if they got a good ally on Noveria, it might help her in the long run... 

With a deep sigh, and inwardly cursing herself, Shepard nodded. 

“How will this work out?” 

Lorik slowly rose from the bed and unlocked his night stand to store the gun in it, then stalked towards her, and Shepard had to fight herself to not reach for her knife again. When he reached her, he put a hand on her arm and pulled her to the bed with a surprising amount of gentleness. Like he was afraid of hurting her. 

Both standing by the edge of the giant bed, they looked at each other, and there was something like uncertainty in Lorik’s eyes. He pretended not to be insecure, of course, instead reached around to unzip her dress and help her out of it.

He knew that much, at least. 

“Good riddance,” she said and drew a deep sigh, finally free. He rumbled out a low chuckle and reached for the knife, unstrapping it and throwing it away. Shepard had to bite back an annoyed sound, longingly looking after her weapon. 

“Eyes here, Shepard,” he murmured, and she looked back up at him. She had to tilt her head slightly back to peer into his small eyes. “Good.” 

He pulled off his own tunic and pants, and Shepard couldn’t help a wave of curiosity. She had never been with a turian, and had never seen one up close. Not naked, at least. 

He was all hard angles and sharp lines. Narrow waist and lower body and jutting hips, a rounded carapace, long legs with those odd spurs roughly at the same place as a human’s knees. Two toes on each foot and three clawed fingers on each hand. The long fringe. 

It took the breath out of her, just a little, though she would never admit it. 

There was something beautiful about him. 

_ ‘Surely, you must be drunk to think that,’ _ she thought to herself, and that was the last thought she got to think before her brain seemed to turn off. 

He slowly lowered his head, and Shepard was shamefully aware of how she couldn’t stop looking into his eyes, even when their mouths met and warmth surged through her. His mouth plates were stiff and rigid, and they couldn’t move as smoothly as her own lips, which seemed to frustrate him. He growled quietly and pressed more insistently against her, like that was going to help. 

She kissed him back and let her tongue slide over the stiff edges of his mouth, and he growled again, though this sound was significantly less one of danger and frustration. 

His hands came down to rest on her hips as they kissed, and Shepard would never, in a hundred lightyears, admit to the tight warmth in the pit of her stomach. 

“I’ve never been with a turian before,” she whispered, surprising herself by the truthfulness and shyness in her voice. “Will you be gentle with me, Lorik?” 

All air seemed to be knocked out of him when she said this, and he pushed her back on the spacious bed, then crawled over her and kissed her hard again, pushing her head back with the force of it. Being beneath him really solidified how  _ big _ he was. Standing well above six feet, he was a force to be reckoned with, and Shepard wouldn’t like to be his enemy. She would much prefer him as an ally. 

There was a low, vibrating sound coming from him, and it seemed to go through her and make her shiver and arch her body into him. In turn, he growled deeply and pulled back. 

“I can’t promise gentle,” he rumbled and stroked his hands down over her breasts, squeezing them slightly and coaxing a soft moan out of her. “I  _ can _ promise good, though.” His hands remained on her breasts, fondling the lace bra and tilting his head slightly. 

Did he know what a bra was, or what to do with it? 

“Sit up,” he ordered, and Shepard leaned up on her elbows, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. 

He let out a slow, deep growl before he reached around her again and fumbled with the clasps of the bra. 

“This is stupid,” he snarled after a couple of seconds in silence. 

“Human men think so, too, if that’s any consolation.”

“Then  _ why _ wear it? It seems counterproductive to me to wear something that halts the process of intercourse.”

Shepard rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop a snicker from bubbling in her mouth. 

“You certainly know how to charm a lady,” she said and sat up to undo the bra herself, then flung it to the side. “There, happy now?”

“Very,” he hummed and went back to squeezing her breasts. Shepard shivered and moaned as his claws dragged over her nipples, making them stand to attention. When he lowered his head, she momentarily feared that he would bite them, but he didn’t. Instead, he began touching them with his tongue. 

Hesitant at first, almost reverent, he grew bolder when Shepard groaned and sagged back against the bed. He flicked the tip of his tongue over the perky buds before licking them properly, all the while exploring her figure with his hands. 

Squeezing her waist and hips, he let out a shaky growl, and another when she, without thinking, spread her legs. 

His talons skirted around her belly button, and she automatically sucked in her stomach with a breathless chuckle. It tickled. 

She lifted her head to look at him, and he appeared very focused. His gaze was fixed on her breasts as he licked them. Shepard realized that she was almost desperate to touch him as well, and, figuring that it couldn’t hurt, she let her head sink back into the bed while a hand found his fringe and stroked it slowly. He stopped immediately. 

“What.. are you doing?” he asked quietly, and while she couldn’t read the tone of his voice, she could hear the shock in it. 

“I think it’s quite obvious.”

“Let me rephrase; why are you doing it?” 

Shepard shrugged lightly and kept stroking. 

“Is it bad? Do you want me to stop?” she asked quietly, and inwardly grinned when he didn’t immediately reply. 

“... No,” he then mumbled. 

So, she continued stroking his fringe, and he continued caressing her breasts and nipples with his ungodly long and delicious tongue, coaxing out soft sighs and mellow moans. His hands were everywhere on her slim, strong figure. Tugging on and slightly squeezing her flesh, he seemed fascinated by it. 

When he pulled back from her breasts, Shepard was a shaky breath away from complaining. The shaky breath was only let out when he pushed his stiff mouth plates against her lips again, and a growl seeped between his teeth and into her mouth. She swallowed down the sound and kissed him back with an eagerness that surprised even her. 

His hands slowly moved from her hips and into her hair, making a pit-stop by her breasts on their way, and stroked through the strands in a way so slow and tender it was almost a caress. 

Shepard sighed softly and tilted her head slightly to kiss him deeper. As she traced his unyielding ‘lips’ with her tongue, he slowly parted them, and Shepard made a delighted sort of sound before gently pushing her tongue into his mouth. 

Her tongue lightly swept over his teeth, and when she felt  _ just _ how sharp they were, a tiny voice in the back of her skull told her to pull out. Another voice, much louder, told her to go all in. 

Naturally, never one to turn down an adventure or bold decision, she let her tongue poke against his teeth until she felt his tongue prod against hers. They both shuddered, and Shepard moved her hands to put them on his jutting hips. It seemed to startle him, because he quickly drew back.

“Sorry,” she laughed softly and peered up at him, stroking his hips slowly with her thumbs. 

“... It’s not a problem,” he then rumbled and resumed the kiss, firmer and with more passion. She let out a brittle whimper when his tongue pushed against hers in a much rougher and more demanding way compared to before, and the sound made him twitch slightly. 

“You make so many sounds,” he growled and broke the kiss to instead pay attention to the soft flesh of her neck and throat. “You’re so soft.” He sounded... torn. Confused. 

With his tongue now licking along the throbbing vein on her throat, Shepard had only a fraction of her normal brain power, and she couldn’t make the connection between his words and his tone of voice. 

“That a problem, Lorik?” she whispered and tilted her head back to give him better access. This seemed to do  _ things _ to him - the second she flashed her throat, he let out a dangerously deep growl, and his hands tightened in her hair, unwittingly tugging her head further back, while his teeth scraped lightly over her skin. 

“No biting,” she warned, and when he let his teeth press firmer against her, she flicked his mandible. He scoffed. “ _ No biting, _ I said.” Then, deciding to play on his species’ fondness of strength... “You’re so big and strong, you could tear me to shreds. I don’t want that.”

“What  _ do _ you want, then, Shepard?” he rasped and looked into her eyes while absently stroking her scalp. 

_ ‘I want the intel you promised me.’ _

She didn’t think that would be a good answer, so instead, she turned on her human charm and blinked slowly up at him.

“I want you, Lorik.” 

His mandibles fluttered, and for a second, he seemed flustered. Then the second had passed, and he was back in control. 

“Is that so?” he rumbled, and Shepard nodded with a faint chuckle. 

“Yeah.” 

“ _ How _ do you want me? Your first time with a turian - better make the most of it.” 

A faint blush swept across her cheeks, and he must have noticed, because then he laughed, and it was an oddly warm and private sound in the giant space they shared. 

Shepard wasn’t sure how to proceed. She had ideas, filthy ideas, but wasn’t sure how far she could, or  _ should _ , take this encounter. 

“How about this,” she then found herself saying, “I pay good attention to your cock, and you pay the same kind of attention to my cunt?” It was weird, saying something so profane, but when his mandibles fluttered again, she found it was worth it. 

“Alright,” he nodded and pulled back to sit on his haunches, as well as he could for the spurs. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” she purred and took off her knickers, flung them aside. 

Lorik watched her like a hawk for a few seconds - trying to determine if she had ulterior motives? - before he pushed himself back against the bed’s headboard and many pillows. Shepard crawled into his lap and straddles his thighs, grabbing his face gently to kiss him again. With a low grunt, he kissed her back and wrapped his arms around her, hands on the small of her back. 

“You smell amazing,” he mumbled against her lips, and Shepard blushed  _ again _ . “Sweet, like nectar, yet bitter and strong. It’s dizzying.” 

“Stay with me,” she chuckled and slowly rolled her hips over his crotch. She wasn’t sure how turian anatomy worked, or how their dicks looked. She hadn’t seen his cock when he had undressed or moved, and thus wasn’t sure if he even liked what she did. 

“How do I... what do you like? How do I make you feel good?” she whispered against his mouth plates, and he groaned quietly. 

“You already are, keep going, yeah, like that.”

She continued rolling her hips slowly while her hands caressed his face and mandibles. Her fingers were on his forehead when she felt  _ something _ prod at her crotch, and she gasped and couldn’t help but grab onto Lorik’s fringe. He growled, but didn’t stop her, and the  _ something _ twitched slightly. 

Shepard didn’t want to ruin the mood by asking ‘is that your dick?’, so she instead shifted slightly so she could stroke him. He hissed through his teeth at her touch, but still didn’t stop her, and she thus assumed she wasn’t doing anything bad. The more she touched, the more it grew, and it  _ did _ grow to a worrying size. A few inches bigger than the biggest man she had been with, Lorik’s cock had a frightening length, and coupled with the  _ texture _ , Shepard briefly wondered just what kind of a mess she had walked into. From what she could feel, his cock was full of ridges and small knobs, and while it was slim and pointy at the tip, it gradually widened until she couldn’t close a fist around his shaft. 

Glancing down, she saw that it curved slightly towards his stomach, and that the shaft was of a light brown color, with vague hints of white. 

“You can be rougher,” he rumbled, and Shepard nodded, her throat tight and dry. How was that ever going to fit in  _ any _ of her orifices? 

She stroked him slowly, from base to tip, and swiped her thumb over the tip where thick drops of what she would classify as pre-cum leaked from a small hole. He groaned and arched his back slightly, then pushed into her hand. 

“Here, let me show you.” 

He closed his - huge - hand around hers and squeezed it tight around his cock, then made her pump him firmly, letting out a loud, shaky grunt. 

“Like that, yeah... Yeah, that’s good, keep doing that,” he rasped and let go, and Shepard pumped him like he had instructed, marveling at how easily he seemed to crumble beneath her. Maybe it had been a while - maybe he hadn’t been with a human before. Maybe both. 

Either way, she was determined to fulfill her end of the bargain. She was going to show him a damn good time. 

“You know what humans can do with their mouths, right?” she asked, a flirty tinge to her voice. Lorik looked at her and nodded slightly. “Something that would be...  _ dangerous _ with your own females.” 

“I’ve heard about it, yeah,” he admitted. Never been with a human before, then. 

“Do you want to try it?”

“... yes...” he mumbled shakily, and his mandibles pinched tight against his face. Embarrassment? 

Shepard’s lips curled in a smile, and she moved back to lie on her stomach between his legs and in front of his cock. It looked even more monstrous from this angle, and she swallowed heavily. But, a deal was a deal. So, she grabbed his cock by the base and began kissing the shaft slowly, from base to tip. He had a strong taste. Not unpleasant, just strong. Overwhelming, sort of. 

Her tongue darted out to lick up the drops of pre-cum, and he moaned deeply and reached down to bury his hands in her hair. 

“Spirits,” he groaned, and when she peered up at him through her lashes, he looked like he was about to break already. 

“I take it you like it?”

“Yeah.” It was a gruff, single word, and yet, it made the heat in Shepard’s stomach flare and burn bright. 

“Good.” 

She crawled closer and took him in her mouth - as much as she could, anyway - and assaulted him with sensations. Her lips stretching around him, her tongue playing with the tip before running over the ridges and knobs, her saliva making it all wet and slippery. 

“Spirits, fuck, Shepard!” he snarled and leaned in over her, hands tightening in her hair. When he cursed, a frisson of pleasure ran through her, and she moaned softly around him. He slid one hand from her hair and to the back of her neck, squeezing tightly. 

He bucked his hips, and Shepard nearly choked as the tip of his cock was pushed to the back of her mouth. 

She slowly pulled off his cock, strings of saliva connecting them, and sent him a devious smile while stroking him firmly. 

“Why’d you stop?” he growled. 

“You’re so big,” she whispered and made a show of comparing her hand to the length of him, “you were choking me.” 

“ _ Fuck... _ Shepard, get back to work, that’s an order.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I can be,” he rumbled and pushed her head down, making her shiver, and she opened her mouth for him again. With a thrust of his hips, he had pushed most of his cock between her lips, and the tip tickled her gag reflex, but she ignored it as best she could. He let out a deep, shaky sound and gripped her hair and back of her neck tightly as he began thrusting into her mouth. 

Shepard gagged, again, but she couldn’t deny how  _ good _ this made her feel. There was something about the hard and deep thrusts that made fire burn in her stomach, and something about his sounds made her heart race dangerously fast. 

Each thrust inched his cock just a bit further down her throat, until her nose pressed against his crotch, and tears were squeezed out of her eyes. She couldn’t breathe, let alone talk or make a single sound - aside from the guttural grunts - and she was shocked to find that she  _ liked it _ . The aching of her jaws, the heavy feeling in her mouth and on her tongue, all of it was  _ amazing, _ and she curled her fingers in his powerful thighs as she began bobbing her head. He allowed her to pull slightly back, only to push her down again a second later.

“Shepard,” he groaned, and she gurgled something around him, with saliva trickling down her chin. “Spirits, I didn’t think it could feel this good. How do your men not do this all the time?” Rhetorical question or not, Shepard wrestled herself free to answer. 

“Oh, they want to. Some women are dedicated to do just this as part of their job.” 

Lorik breathed deeply through his nose. 

“They must be revered,” he mumbled, and Shepard didn’t have the heart to break the truth to him. Not yet, at least. 

She went down on him again, swallowed him as deep as she could and let him hammer his way down the rest of her throat with a powerful thrust. She choked, and more tears sprang into her eyes, but it was  _ delicious _ . 

How had she never been with a turian before? Heaven knew there had been plenty of opportunities. She had really been missing out if  _ this  _ was the standard treatment. 

He grabbed her face and thrust hard and deep into her mouth and throat, and it didn’t take long before he rumbled out, “I’m close, Shepard,” and she was, for a second, torn between letting him come in her mouth or wanting him to finish elsewhere. 

She didn’t get to choose, though, for in the next moment, she felt his cock throb and twitch, and she  _ knew _ he was coming. 

Indeed, half a second later, something warm and sticky was released down her throat, and Lorik groaned loudly and tugged her head firmly, pressing her face flush against his crotch. Shepard’s fingers clawed at his thighs, then squeezed them tightly, and she did her best to look up at him as he came. His mandibles flared wide and showed off his many sharp teeth, and his head was leaned back to expose his throat. 

The pulsing of his cock in her throat made warm euphoria slither through her veins, and Shepard closed her eyes, indulging herself in the pleasure. It was so rare she got to feel good, she could take a moment to bury herself in this... 

Then, just as suddenly as he had come, Lorik had finished, and he gingery pulled out of her mouth. Shepard coughed and gagged, swallowing out of instinct, and peered up at him again. He looked pleased and let out a low hum, stroking her hair and neck absently. 

“That... was amazing,” he sighed and looked down at her, mandibles twitching slightly. Shepard smiled and slumped to the side, against his thigh, and he chuckled roughly. 

“I believe that means it’s my turn.”

There was a flash of something ominous in his eyes, and then he gently, but firmly pushed her away. 

“You never said that one followed the other immediately,” he rasped and crawled over her as she was lying on her back. Shepard’s eyes went wide. Fucking politicians, always twisting the words to suit their needs! 

“Ah-ah,” he said and put a finger to her lips when she was about to talk, “I’m not done yet.”

“I never said that you got more than one round!”

“You want the intel, do you not?” he said, and he sounded way too smug about this little spin he was putting on their deal. Shepard’s face burned, and their staring contest ended with her caving first; she nodded. 

“I thought as much. So, you’ll please me until I’m done, then you’ll get a round, and  _ then _ you get your intel. Does that sound fair to you?”

“No,” Shepard laughed and shook her head. Lorik grinned widely. 

“Too bad, because it’s either that, or nothing. Take it or leave it.” 

Shepard sighed deeply - she knew she had to take the deal. The intel was valuable, though she was starting to wonder if  _ this _ was  _ really _ worth it, being the one-night stand of a turian politician with a human fetish. 

Though he had been kind to her so far. 

“Well, what will it be? Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...”

“Deal,” she said through gritted teeth, and Lorik’s mandibles flared. He leaned down to kiss her cheek before he sat back and admired her. 

While she wasn’t self-conscious about her body, it  _ was _ rather odd to have a strange turian study her. He didn’t make a single sound that gave her reason to think she wasn’t attractive to him, however. Having admired her for a few minutes, he raked his talons up her legs, starting by her ankles. 

The cool keratin-like claws made her skin erupt in goosebumps, and she shuddered while exhaling deeply. 

He squeezed her shins and marvelled at the meat and flexing muscles before moving higher, to her knees. These, he kissed as well, and Shepard was suddenly a little breathless. 

Was he worthshipping her? Or was this just a part of his weird human fetish? 

Whatever it was, Shepard wasn’t complaining. None of her previous partners had taken the time to treat her like this, and while the thought made her scoff inwardly, his actions made her draw a deep sigh. 

He had reached her thighs and spread them with a single nudge of his hand. His talons traced some of the scars she had there while looking up at her. It was clear he wanted to ask about them, but she shook her head lightly, and he nodded, taking the hint. 

Another point where he differed from her previous partners; they always insisted to know where her scars came from, dead-certain they all had heroic tales. But sometimes, a scar was just a scar. No heroism. No grand battle with a ten foot monster. Sometimes, the deepest scars were from your own demons. 

But her partners hadn’t understood this, and when they had kept asking, she had promptly kicked them out of bed, which in the end gave her a blighted reputation. She pretended not to notice, of course, when her crewmates talked about her behind her back. They were extraordinarily bad at hiding it, however. 

Very few of her crewmates had her back, fewer still would carry her through hellfire. And these crewmates, she would never disgrace in such a way as to sleep with them, and eventually have to kick them out of bed, too. Have to see them turn cold. 

“Shepard?” 

The voice seemed to come from far away, and then there was a hand on her cheek, and Shepard opened her eyes, realizing they were wet and that she was breathing heavily. Was she trembling, too?

“Shepard,” Lorik whispered and entered her vision, brow plates pushing together in worry. “Hey...” 

Shepard remained on her back and wiped her eyes, sniffling quietly, before forcing a smile to her face and looking up at Lorik. 

“It’s fine,” she croaked and sat up, then reached out to touch his cock, but he took her hand and gently pushed it away. 

“Clearly, it’s not fine. You’re crying, and even I know that that’s a sign of distress and emotional pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Shepard breathed shakily and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, then ran a hand through her hair. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, but he shook his head gently and put an arm around her shoulder. Hesitantly, at first, then put more of his weight into it when she didn’t recoil. 

He didn’t say anything, simply sat there with her, stroking her shoulder and upper arm slowly. At one point, Shepard felt the tears sting her eyes again, and she turned her head in the hope that Lorik didn’t notice, but no such luck. 

“Come here,” he rumbled and Shepard, who  _ very _ rarely let anyone see her cry, looked up at him for a few hesitant seconds, then buried her face in his neck and crawled into his lap, fingers curling tightly in his sturdy chest. 

It wasn’t that Shepard saw crying as a weakness - no, it required immense strength to let yourself feel these emotions, and especially letting others see. But there was no reason for her crewmates to see her cry - to them, she had to uphold some kind of authority and professionalism. Even if she had slept with some of them... 

Breathing shakily and squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Shepard tensed against Lorik, but relaxed when he put a hand in her hair and another on the small of her back. 

“It’s... it’s okay,” he murmured, and Shepard couldn’t help the smallest of smiles. It was obvious that he wasn’t used to comforting others, let alone humans, but the fact that he tried for her made  _ something _ dance in her heart, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. 

“I’ve... got you?” he continued questioningly and joined Shepard in her soft chuckle. “Look, I’m not used to these situations, you’ll have to forgive me for this terrible experience,” he said, but Shepard shook her head and stroked his mandible. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she whispered and pulled back to rub her eyes. “You’re doing really well. Most humans aren’t exactly stellar at handling a crying woman.” 

“Why’s that? Shouldn’t they know how to comfort their own species?” 

Shepard shrugged lightly. 

“You’d think so, yeah,” she said. 

Having wiped her eyes, Shepard looked at Lorik and smiled softly. The way he looked back at her, however... his mandibles were relaxed, and his gaze was fixed on her eyes. His head slightly tilted. There was something in his eyes. Warmth...? Could it be? The more she looked at him, and the more she read in his face, the more her smile faltered, until she slowly leaned in to press her lips against his mouth plates. 

He tensed and didn’t immediately return the kiss. Thinking she might have misunderstood his expression, and now had fucked up, she pulled back and was about to babble out an apology, when he surged forward and kissed her. His hands were on her face, and the force behind the kiss had her on her back, letting out a sharp gasp. 

Lorik climbed over her and didn’t free her lips until he had to pull back for air, and even then, her hands were still on her face, caressing her cheeks and nose and forehead fondly.  _ Fondly. _

They shared a long, heated look before Lorik pulled back and away, unlocking the drawer in his night stand and pulling out a data pad. He threw it to her. 

Confused, Shepard stared at him, then down at the data pad. 

“And what would this be?”

“The intel you came here for.” 

She blinked a few times, then returned her stare to him. 

“But I didn’t--- the deal?” 

Lorik shrugged and pushed the data pad back in her hands when she reached it out to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, Shepard,” he said softly and ran a hand down her cheek so tenderly that it nearly made Shepard feel sick. No one had touched her like that, so...  _ innocently. _

“Lorik?” she whispered before she knew what she aimed to follow it up with. He turned his head to look at her, and there, in his face... so much confusion. Poor turian didn’t seem to know what had come over him, either. 

“If I take this,” she lifted the data pad, “will I see you again?”

“Probably not,” he muttered and looked away, telling her all she needed to know. 

“Then I don’t want it.” 

His head snapped to the side, and his mandibles had fallen a bit, his eyes narrow and staring right at her. 

“What do you mean? No, don’t be ridiculous, Shepard, you need the intel.” 

She shrugged. 

“I also need more allies throughout the galaxy.”

“More allies?” he echoed, and the harshness of his stare faltered.

“Indeed. You’re a powerful turian, Lorik, I’m sure the Alliance would love to have you on their side. I know I sure would,” she added, much softer, and his eyes widened. She reached out to touch his hand, and he looked down at where their fingers entwined. Her long, slender, calloused fingers curling around his shorter, rougher, clawed ones. Shepard dared guess it made his brain short circuit. 

If that didn’t do the trick, then her leaning in to kiss him sure did. 

He muttered something incoherent but kissed her back like it was his last chance of survival, and Shepard let him push her on her back once more, moaning softly and grabbing his face so as to not break the kiss before absolutely necessary. 

“Shepard,” he growled, and his voice was thick and strained. He pulled back to let her breathe and began nibbling at her throat, licking it and, probably subconsciously, grinding against her.

“Lorik,” she gasped and reached behind her to grab the headboard of the bed. 

“Can’t promise gentle, Shepard,” he rasped, an echo of their initial deal, and then her shaky, 

“Don’t care for gentle,” followed by his throaty snarl before he pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck. 

He entered her after a few tries, then slid deep inside her without a sound. Only when he pressed firmly against her did he let out a loud, shaky grunt, and Shepard moaned sharply, craning her neck and squeezing the headboard hard. 

He stretched her until the pain was nearly unbearable, but the texture of his cock pressed against her inner walls in such an exquisite way that it overwhelmed her with pleasure, and she felt like she was a shudder away from coming. 

“ _ Fuck, _ you’re big,” she gasped and closed her eyes, and when Lorik rumbled out a breathless chuckle, a feeble smile appeared on her face. 

It took him a few moments to move, and when he did, his textured cock made waves of pleasure wash over her. Gentle, but demanding to make themselves known, they knocked all air out of her, and Shepard could only gasp when he pushed in again. A long, shrill sound, soon elongating and twisting into a moan. Lorik was huge, in size as well as girth, and while the penetration hurt, it was also  _ so good, _ and Shepard could barely fathom that she had never tried a turian. 

Maybe she would end up with a turian fetish, after all...?

What a couple they would make - the turian with the human fetish and the human with the turian fetish. 

“Shepard,” he whispered, and it was such a quiet, reverent sound that she nearly came on the spot. 

“I’m here,” she whispered back and put a hand under his fringe, finding that the hide here was surprisingly soft, and the moment her hand touched it, Lorik shuddered and drove hard forward, making Shepard yelp and then let out a string of curses. 

“Sorry,” he murmured and was about to pull out when Shepard clenched around him, forcing out a deep grunt. 

Tryingly, she rubbed the soft hide, and the sound that left him was one of pure, unadulterated pleasure; deep and truthful, it made warmth spread in her chest, and she was compelled to continue rubbing. 

“Shepard,” he growled, and there was a tinge of warning in his voice; his hands moving to the pillows and tearing into them, as if to illustrate what he was capable of. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered and opened her eyes, finding that he was looking at her with wide eyes and slack mandibles. “I trust you, Lorik,” followed by a trembling hand on his mandible, the other resting on the soft hide beneath his fringe. 

“Don’t--- don’t say it so easily,” he choked out and pulled back so that he could thrust deep back in, eliciting a sharp moan from her. “You’re so  _ tight, _ so  _ small and soft, _ I might just break you a little.”

“Then so be it,” she smiled and groaned when he thrust again, her hand curling on his soft hide. “That’s,  _ fuck _ , that’s what medi-gel is for, r-right?” 

“No, Shepard, I would break you beyond the healing capabilities of medi-gel,” he rumbled, and she couldn’t  _ believe _ what that did to her. 

“That--- that doesn’t sound like ‘a little,’” she laughed and tryingly rolled her hips, relishing how he shuddered and pushed against her, burying his cock deep in her wet heat. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly, “before it gets out of control.” 

“Maybe,” she began but was cut off by a  _ particularly _ good thrust, “maybe wait with the breaking part, until next time?” 

“Next time?” he asked, confusion twisting his words into a question, but that didn’t mean he stopped pulling her apart. 

“We’re allies now, right?” she chuckled breathlessly and stroked down the back of his neck with a finger, absolutely loving the shudder that jerked his body and the  _ moan _ that left his mouth. 

“You do this with all your allies?” 

“Only the handsome ones.”

A short laugh shared in the spacious room, and then the neediness of two teenagers in love with each other. The rutting, the panting, the moaning. The slick sounds of penetration. The high-pitched shout of commander Shepard coming undone under the touch of a turian politician, then the low, dangerous growl of said turian politician losing himself in  _ her _ . 

They pressed against each other desperately, clutching at the edges of pleasure - and each other - and never wanting it to disappear. It did end, however, and they come down from their high, panting and trembling and touching each other in a manner that could only be classified as worshipping. 

Breathing heavily and with hands on the other’s face, they eventually relaxed, and Lorik sagged against her before realizing that he was too heavy for that, and he rolled to the side. Shepard instinctively rolled on her side and looked at him, a hand finding and stroking his mandible fondly. 

“Is your curiosity about the female human body sated?” she asked with a surprisingly rough voice. 

He opened his eyes and peered at her, mandible flaring slightly. 

“Not even close,” he replied, unable to hide the soft undertones of hopefulness in his calm, kind voice. 

“Shame. Guess we’ll have to... conduct further experiments, then.”

“Count me in,” he rumbled and lifted an arm. Shepard purred and scooted closer until he could wrap the arm around her waist and hold her close. 

She was on the verge of sleep when his voice drilled through the drowsiness. 

“Shepard?”

“Mmhh.” 

“Are we... okay?”

“Yeah?” she mumbled and nuzzled his chest, curling a bit firmer against him. He purred. 

“I’m sorry about... earlier. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know.” 

_ ‘I think I’m in love with you,’ _ she thought to herself, desperately wishing he would say it first. 

But then, when he stroked a few strands of hair out of her face and kissed her cheek so tenderly, she realized he had been saying it all along. She just hadn’t listened. 

“If I say something really dumb, will you promise not to laugh at me?” she mumbled after a few heartbeats and bowed her head further, quickly waking up. Her hammering heart told her that this was getting real - there was no backing away now. She had opened the door, now she had to let whatever came through, come through. 

“I promise I won’t.” He stroked her cheek and neck fondly, and Shepard swallowed heavily. It felt like it was stuck in her throat. Now or never... 

“I... I think I might be in love with you.” 

The hand stopped caressing her, and as the seconds ticked by, Shepard grew cold, and her heart seemed to cease its rapid beating. 

“In love with me?” 

“Yeah.” She forced out a laugh, trying to cover up what had  _ obviously _ been a  _ huge _ mistake, and she was halfway out of his grasp when he pulled her back. 

“Shepard,” he whispered and rolled them over, her on her back and him on top of her. “Don’t go. Stay. With me. Please?” 

The yearning in his eyes, the honesty, the  _ love _ made the breath hitch in her throat, and she found herself nodding before she could think better of it. She let him tug the blankets tight around them. 

Far from able to sleep  _ now, _ Shepard was wide awake and desperate to know what he thought of her. Which was absurd. She had never bothered with romance before, why start now? With a turian politician and hotel manager, of all options? 

She was on the verge of asking, unable to take the silence anymore, when he stroked the back of her neck slowly with a claw, and she drew in a sharp breath. 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> And yes - they had breakfast together the morning after. Lorik treats his lady right.


End file.
